


a good kind of hurt

by rospeaks



Series: Kinktober 2017 [5]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath, Anal Fingering, Anonymity, Anonymous Sex, Body Image, Bodyswap, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, Hurt, Kinktober, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Other, Pain, Sex Toys, maybe???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 16:05:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12279882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rospeaks/pseuds/rospeaks
Summary: It is a relief, Graves thinks, to be back in his own body. It had only been a day away from it, lost in an unfamiliar life and with an unfamiliar face. The only mercy had been that the man he'd traded bodies with had been a fellow wizard. That had made straightening out the whole ordeal much easier.He can only hope that the other wizard hadn't gotten into too much trouble in a single day.But when Graves sits up, it's with a startled groan. He'ssorein ways that he hardly recognizes anymore, like his body has been put through a very agonizing work out and then some. He knows what these particular aches and pains mean however. He might not be as young as he used to be, but he still remembers what it feels like to get fucked. It's simply... been a while.





	a good kind of hurt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CloveeD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloveeD/gifts).



> for day 5: body swap, humiliation

It is a relief, Graves thinks, to be back in his own body. It had only been a day away from it, lost in an unfamiliar life and with an unfamiliar face. The only mercy had been that the man he'd traded bodies with had been a fellow wizard. That had made straightening out the whole ordeal much easier.

He can only hope that the other wizard hadn't gotten into too much trouble in a single day.

But when Graves sits up, it's with a startled groan. He's  _ sore _ in ways that he hardly recognizes anymore, like his body has been put through a very agonizing work out and then some. He knows what these particular aches and pains mean however. He might not be as young as he used to be, but he still remembers what it feels like to get fucked. It's simply... been a while.

He swears under his breath. The only thing that is preventing him from doing so loudly and wildly is how rough his throat feels. Thoughts are filled with a maddening flurry of hypotheticals, Graves wonders just how many dicks got shoved down his throat yesterday to make his voice feel so raw. 

He throws off the bed covers with his eyes averted, reluctant to see his own body, and instead he's faced with his room -- his utterly trashed room. Everything is in disarray, like the body snatching little asshole had torn through every drawer in search of something. What he might have been looking for, Graves isn't sure but --  _ oh,  _ of course.

There, sitting open next to a tall mirror that Graves is certain he did not own before, is his box of sex toys. They aren't anything fancy -- just a small collection of dildos (a couple of which vibrate) and a pair of nipple clamps that he indulges in now and then. He moans in dismay at the sight of that box -- not just because someone found it, but because it's been clearly  _ used _ . And callously so! 

He huffs, irritated at the sight of every toy slathered in glimmering lubricant and no small amount of come. One looks as if it had even been modified into something larger, almost grotesquely bulbous. Graves' body twinges uncomfortably at the thought of taking it. The other wizard hadn't even bothered to clean up after himself, and now... Graves can't bear thinking about some stranger touching his toys, even with his own hands. He would simply have to buy new ones. 

Graves rubs the heel of his hand against his nipple as he finally pushes himself to his feet. He stumbles briefly, groaning as the ache in his back sharpens considerably. He wishes desperately that the other fellow had taken into account his age. He doesn't bounce back from sex quite as easily as he used to. He braces himself on the bed post and eyes the distance to the wash basin.

He really should assess the damage done to his body. Judging by the state of his room, there's no telling how much his body has actually been through. The wash basin feels like it's miles away, however. His other option is the mirror his visitor had apparently magicked into existence. It's gaudy and golden, reaching almost as high as the ceiling, and has three panels to allow for all kinds of viewing angles. There's a chair in front of it, and of course, the box of toys.

Shuffling gingerly toward it, Graves bites back his worry that a hospital visit will be necessary. He dreads the humiliation that will bring, but he'll do it if he has to.

The mirror utterly unforgiving. It proudly shows Graves every weak shake of his knees, every tremble of his hands. His expression is reflected back at him without any softening of his anxiety. He looks vulnerable in the mirror, shy, and a little debauched -- but hardly like the wanton slut that he'd been prepared to see. 

The only obvious bruises are around his nipples. The marks across his belly and the insides of his thighs are self-inflicted and match the width of his fingers. When he turns around, he can see that his back is untouched. His neck aches, but not from a partner leaving marks. He puts a knee up on the chair, bending over carefully, and looks over his shoulder as he gropes at his own ass.

He has to admit that the soreness is the worst at his entrance. He feels stretched out and puffy, his insides raw and burning when he touches them. The reflection of his hole reveals it to be a vivid red, abused far past what Graves would normally set as his limit, and he whimpers as he continues to press his fingers around its edges.

Graves drops his gaze to the box of toys. He feels empty and aching inside. He wonders if one of them would help with that. He chews on his lips thoughtfully and slides two fingers inside instead. It hurts, but in a really very good way. He can't stop himself from thrusting his fingers in as deep as he can get them, huffing out hot breaths as his cock tries its best to get hard.

_ Gorgeous little slut _ , the mirror purrs, drawing his attention. 

Graves jolts as someone's reflection joins him in the mirror. There's no one in the room with him, but he knows that face now -- knows that voice. He spent a day wearing that face and speaking with that voice, and now that not-quite-stranger's reflection is cupping his cheek and sliding a hand down his back. Graves can almost feel it.

_ It was a real treat to play with you for as long as I did, _ the man in the mirror says.  _ Maybe I will again, Director. _

Graves feels a phantom thumb sweep across his lower lip and then a sharp crack of a palm against his ass. Then the man is gone. The mirror is silent.

And Graves  _ aches _ .


End file.
